Dances
by Cards
Summary: Set in Modern Times, About Dutchy and Specs... (Char. Death)


The street was crowded and people would hurry in an out of stores, never noticing the small stands with people selling watches, books, or Prada rip offs. There is a boy dancing on a corner as he walks. He can't be any more then sixteen but his body is like liquid the way it moves, he legs seem to have no bones and his backbone is more flexible then a cats, as he demonstrates leaning far back and smiling at a little girl who laughs as he springs back upright. 

He himself laughs as he continues up past Ave of the Americas and the Swatch shop. The stores become less trendy and there are more ethnic names. Chinese writing dabbles on blue faced houses. He still dances as he goes past a large sign describing a play being done. He walks up to the bowery and takes a left, spinning around and kicking out as he does so. 

His Golden Blonde hair catches in the light as he moves, it plays with the strands warming them in the cold weather. His skin, normally pale is flushed with the cold and the movement of dancing. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he finishes the dance in front of his apartment building. 

Some one claps and he smiles at him, the dancer smiles back and holds out a hat, which he pulled from his back pocket out, his fingers start to shiver after the excitement of dancing is finished. 

"I was thinking about a night." The man says. He appears to be in his mid thirties and a little over weight. 

"What you want from me?" The blonde said, his breath heaving slightly, from the dancing

"You're name." The man said. 

"Are you a cop?" The boy asked suddenly on edge.

"No."

"Dutchy." The Blonde said. 

"Nice name."

"What do you want?" Dutchy repeated, looking through his glasses which magnified his blue eyes. 

"Just a blow job." The man said running a hand through Dutchy's hair, watching as the strands fell back into place. 

"Fifty bucks." Dutchy said. "And I don't do full nights."

"That's alright." The man says handing Dutchy a fifty dollar bill. "How about my car?"

"Where is it?" Dutchy asked, the man pointed it out it was just across the street. "Okay." Dutchy smiled as they walked over. 

As Dutchy came up the man grabbed his throat. "Don't you ever tell any one that I did this!" He hissed "I got three kids and a wife, and a standing in my community."

"I don't tell anything!" Dutchy hastened to assure him. 

"Good."

Three weeks later as he went in for monthly testing it was positive.

He didn't dance from the Planned Parenthood building to his apartment with the condoms in his pocket, he didn't smile at any one as he walked up the stairs and collapsed on his bed, sobbing into his arms. 

It was a month before he came out again. He needed money. So he started dancing at a club. Dutchy was still trying to get over the shock that he was dying, something he though he wouldn't have to deal with for at least twenty years. He would Dance half heartedly, even though he loved it. Nothing was important. 

"No Day Like Today." He repeated, as he looked up at a bill board. "Maybe it is right." He said bitterly. "But I wish today was my last." as he turned the corner he involuntarily jumped and spun, landing almost on a boy's feet.

"Heya." Dutchy said as the boy started at him.

"Hi," The boy said his curly hair longish and brushing his ears.

"Sorry about that" Dutchy said and the went on their ways.

"Dutchy you should join a life support group." One of his friends said. "It might help. I hate seeing you like this." She said smiling. "You used to dance."

"I still do."

"Its not the same." The cashier rang up their total "My treat. If you go to life support."

"Fine." Dutchy muttered feeling his empty wallet and praying for pay day to come soon.

Slowly Dutchy got better. The infection didn't, but he danced. Danced a lot more. 

Soon he started dancing as he walked, unconsciously, sometimes he would dance for money on the street. 

He danced down to his apartment, nearly running into the same boy from before, only it had been three months. 

"Hey." Dutchy said, a wide smile breaking across his face. 

"What?" The boy said. 

"Nothing."

"You said something."

"Hey, it isn't a crimminal offense." Dutchy smiled. "Or did you do something wrong?"

"I could." The curly haired boy said. "Want to ride a piece of the Sky?"

"No." Dutchy said quietly. "Don't do them."

"Good because I wasn't asking." 

"What's your name?"

"Specs."

"Nice nick name." Dutchy said "Mine's Dutchy," He smiled and Specs found his smile infectious, Dutchy tilted his chin up slightly and brought his lips to Specs' quickly.

"What was that for?" Specs said looking down at Dutchy inquisitively. 

"Nothing." Dutchy shrugged. "You have a nice smile." he said taking Specs' hand and leading him up stairs. 

"How do you know I swing your way?" Specs asked.

"Because you do." Dutchy shrugged. "I just know." Specs shrugged and leapt on Dutchy pinning him to the bed and kissing him. "Wait."

"Why?" Specs muttered trying to get Dutchy's shirt off as soon as possible. 

"I'm HIV positive." 

"Me too." Specs said a weight landing on him as he remembered. 

"Its okay," Dutchy whispered as he ran a hand through Specs' hair softly kissing his collar bone and neck.

One year flew by for the two of them, gentle kisses marked days and understanding marked nights. 

They got sick, Dutchy especially but not very.

As Specs entered the apartment he heard Dutchy's painful rasping cough, he rushed in and saw the blonde curled up on the bed they shared, in his pajama's still. "Call the Cub and tell them I won't be in tonight." He said before another series of coughs racked his frame. 

"Let me get you something." Specs said sitting next to him. 

"You shouldn't see me like this."

"Dutchy I love you, I don't care how sick you are."

"But what if you get it too?" Dutchy asked taking Spec's hand. 

"I have a better immune system." Specs said honestly. 

It was true. For some reason the diesis was killing Dutchy faster, Elegant Dutchy, beautiful Dutchy was dying. 

Specs Spent as much time with Dutchy, talking about anything he could think of not wanting the year they spent together to end so tragically. Wanting a miracle.

Duthy's last request was to walk down the avenue with Specs. They didn't make it all the way before Dutchy got too weak and they had to sit down. Specs gently kissed Dutchy as they watched every one go by.

That night they made love for the last time and Dutchy died three days later in a hospital with Specs holdign his hand. 

Disclaimer: I own Nada, Disney owns it all.

Authors Notes: DUUDE! My slash muses are back! -Point to Dutchymuse and Specsmuse who are um… indisposed- Yeah… well they helped me with this one! And I will get WP up! (Erm maybe I should write it…) 


End file.
